


Mine Mine Mine

by Ftballfangrl



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Prompts, deledier, everything, possibly smut at some point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-07 17:17:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19089538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ftballfangrl/pseuds/Ftballfangrl
Summary: A collection drabbles originally posted as requested prompts on tumblr





	1. Chapter 1

I thought I'd collect together all the drabbles that I've been posting over on my football tumblr so that there was easy place for people to read them.  
So here they are!

Any comments are always greatly appreciated. If you have any prompts/ideas you want to send me then please do, my inbox is always open.  
Tumbr: ftballfangrl 

Callie x


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’d love some deledier “explain to me why you’re being a dumbass” 😂 x

The look of defiance in Dele’s eyes and the sound of the door slamming made Eric ball his hands into fists. He let out a long, drawn out sigh and gripped the doorframe, resting his forehead against the white wood.

“You are being so unreasonable about this,” he said loud enough to know that Dele could hear him. He waited a few seconds but there was no reply, no sound of movement. “Come on are you really going to be like this?” he asked, letting a hint of annoyance slip into his tone.

“Stop blowing things out of proportion.” Eric let out a yell as the door swung inwards and he nearly fell into the bedroom beyond. Dele stood in front of him with arms crossed, brows furrowed together. Eric knew saying that would get a response, it always did.

“I’m sorry? Blowing things out of proportion? Am I?” Dele’s voice rose an octave with every question and Eric had to fight not to smile at how wound up he was. Eric nodded, placing his hands on Dele’s arms. He squeezed his biceps and ran his thumb along the outline of a tattoo, just visible under his sleeve. Dele didn’t respond, just stood staring straight at Eric, obviously waiting for some sort of answer. Eric sighed.

“Ok. A few questions,” he said releasing his grip and holding his hand up. “One: did I like any of her pictures?” Eric lifted his index finger and waggled it. He repeated the motion until Dele reluctantly shook his head. “Two: did I reply to her DM?” he lifted another finger and Dele rolled his eyes, shaking his head again. “Three, and Del this is the really important one. Does she have a penis and is her name Dele?”

The last question did it and Dele’s resolve cracked, a grin spreading across his face. Eric smiled back and stepped forward. “‘No, as far as I’m aware she doesn’t have a penis and her name is not in fact Dele,” he replied, unfolding his arms. Eric laughed and leaned in to give Dele the lightest of kisses.

“Then explain to me why you are being a dumbass?” he asked, which earned him a slap on the arm but Dele’s eyes were warm and Eric leaned in kissed him again, feeling Dele smile against his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “is it bad that I really want to kiss you right now?”

Dele had never felt elation like it. Every single emotion he had felt over the last three hours had mixed together into a heady adrenaline rush and he was sure this was what taking drugs must feel like.

They’d done it. They’d won a fucking penalty shootout in a knockout game at the World Cup. And Eric had been the one to seal it for them. His best friend. Who was somewhere under the pile of bodies in front of him. Red shirts and shorts were being pulled every which way as the lads celebrated, smothering Eric and Jordan. “Where is he? Where’s Diet?!” he shouted, bending down slightly. He put his hands on Raz’s back and tried to push between him and Trent. He needed to get to Eric. Needed to find him, to hug him, to share this fucking amazing feeling with him.

He had thought his heart might jump out of his chest as he’d watched Eric walk up to the penalty spot. He shouldn’t have even been taking it but Vards had pulled up with a groin strain late on and Eric was his back up. Knowing that if he slotted it home then they‘d be going to the quarter finals was almost too much for Dele and he’d barely been able to watch. Time felt as if it had stopped when the ball bulged in the bottom left corner of the net and then there had been chaos around him as they’d all started running on to the pitch.

Finally a gap appeared and Dele stepped over Danny, leaning down and putting his hands on Eric’s shoulders. His shirt was sweaty, clinging to him and Dele’s hand was slick with perspiration as he moved his hand to cup Eric’s neck. As Eric clambered up to a standing position his blue eyes met his and the look of pure joy and exhaustion on his face made Dele’s stomach burn. Heat flared in his cheeks as an understanding shifted and he pulled Eric towards his, wrapping his arms around his neck.

He felt Eric’s arms close around him and he was surrounded by the smell of his minty shower gel mixed with the musk of his sweat. He could feel his team mates hands scrambling to celebrate but he held on for a moment longer. He shifted his head, bringing his lips up to Eric’s ear.

“Is it bad that I really want to kiss you right now?” his voice was breathy and he wasn’t even sure if Eric could hear him under all the noise. A small squeeze on his side made his stomach burn again as Eric acknowledged him. He pulled away, their eyes meeting again just before Welbz grabbed Eric by the neck pulling him from Dele’s grip and his whole body burned at the heat in Eric’s gaze.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, looks like there are other places to sit besides my lap.”? ❤️

“Ouch! Beans for fucksake you’ve got such a boney arse,” Jesse moaned as Marcus plonked himself down in his lap. Eric let out a little chuckle and went back to looking at his phone. The pair of them continued to bicker for a few more minutes, Marcus wriggling around until Jesse was laughing between swear words. After a while they quietened down, Marcus leaning against Jesse’s shoulder as they messed around on Snapchat.

Eric looked up from his phone, glancing round the mess room. They’d all been at St George’s Park for a few days and had immediately settled into their usual routines. Eric loved being here. It felt like being in a little bubble. It was nice to be back with the England lads after the World Cup and there was a quiet confidence about them all as they looked forward to this international break.

“Yo Dier, where’s your man?” Jesse shouted and Eric’s mouth pulled into a smile.

“He’s not my man Jess,” he replied not sounding entirely convincing. He heard Marcus scoff and mutter something under his breath. Eric launched a red and white pillow in their direction. “What was that Rashy?” he asked, holding up a second pillow.

“Oh nothing just that you are not fooling anyone Dier, especially not us,” Marcus answered, gesturing between him and Jesse. Eric shook his head, pulling his jumper up over his mouth to cover the goofy grin that he couldn’t fight from taking over his face. The two United lads had never officially announced anything to the rest of them but everyone knew. Another consequence of their amazing World Cup, it had made some of them feel very brave.

“What’s this then lads, cuddle sesh I wasn’t invited too?” Eric’s cheeks burned as Dele walked into the room, waving his phone at Jesse and Marcus. He was wearing a white top and his grey England joggers and Eric felt his stomach tighten. It was October but Dele’s skin was still holding on to the tan he’d gained in Russia and the slim fit of his top hinted at the toned torso beneath it. ‘Not your man yeah?’ he thought to himself, wanting to laugh.

Dele sauntered over to him, holding his phone up. “Say hello to Instagram Diet,” he said raising his eyebrows. Eric waved and quickly glanced over at the other two. Dele shook his head, indicating that he wouldn’t film them. “Are you excited for this international break?” Dele asked, putting on his interviewer voice.

“Yes Delboy. Feeling very confident,” he answered sitting up. Dele turned round, holding his phone up at an angle and Eric saw him flip the camera round on the screen. Without warning Dele fell backwards and landed on Eric’s lap. Alarm ran through his mind as Dele messed around with the angle on his phone, getting them both in the frame. He shifted slightly and Dele repositioned himself, the feeling making his groin twinge.

The fans knew Dele was tactile and that was what Eric kept telling himself as they carried on the instalive. He was only perched on his lap, there was no real intimacy in it. Eric leaned forward, his face next to Dele’s shoulder so he could see the messages at the bottom of the screen. He saw one that said ‘awww Deledier’ followed by an obscene amount of love hearts and his stomach clenched. People had been calling them that for a few years and he knew it was harmless, a nickname for their bromance but since the summer it had started to take on a new meaning.

“Say bye to everyone Diet,” Dele said shoving the phone in his face. He pushed it away and waved at the camera. A slew of ‘It’s Coming Home’ and ‘Good Luck’ messages flooded the screen and Eric felt a rush of warmth thinking about how many people now wanted them to do well. Dele closed the app and flicked through a few stories.

Eric stayed still, expecting him to get up. Instead Dele swung his legs up onto the sofa, shifting his hips so that he could lean against Eric’s body. He saw Jesse and Marcus, who were still cuddling, share a knowing look. It would be so easy to tell Dele to move, to push against the intimacy. But they were among friends and more importantly among friends who understood. So he lifted his hand and rested it on the back of Dele’s neck, fluttering his fingers against his smooth skin.

Dele glanced at him, a wide smile splitting his face open. Eric watched as he opened snapchat on his phone and ran through the filters until he came to one that made love hearts float around their faces. He held the phone up and Eric leaned in, pressing his lips to Dele’s cheek. He knew that the photo was just for Del, knew that there were hundreds more like it on both their camera rolls.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Dele tracing outlines on Eric’s chest. He concentrated, trying to figure out what he was writing. He smiled into Dele’s hair as he felt the tell tale sign of an M. Mine, mine, mine. God Dele had loved that video. He started to notice that Dele kept figdeting and wondered if he was starting to get a dead arse like he was getting dead legs.

“There are other places to sit other than my lap you know,” he whispered, nodding his head towards the abundance of empty seats. Dele shook his head and nestled himself back against Eric’s shoulder. His lips lightly brushed Eric’s neck. “I’m fine right where I am.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dele trying to prepare the perfect date for eric but totally failing

Everything had gone to shit. Absolutely everything.

Dele pulled open the oven and coughed as a plume of smoke snaked it’s way around his face. He swore under his breath and grabbed the pan, a towel just about covering his fingers. The hot metal still stung his hand and he quickly dropped it on the kitchen side. He stared down at the charred remains of what had been Mediterranean vegetables and dropped the towel on top of the pan, letting out a sigh.

He’d had it all planned. He was going to cook Eric his favourite meal, they were going to watch that stupid film he’d been going on about, then Dele was going to give him a massage. And then they were finally, finally going to have sex after not being able too for months because of Eric’s stupid injury.

H was going to make sure that Eric left physio on time and in the mean time Dele had planned on having everything ready for when he got home. He’d laid out an outfit for Eric to wear, picking items that he loved to see him in. He’d set the table, complete with candles ready to create the perfect mood. It was all going so well until Eric had text him.

Diet: Going to be a bit late home, Poch wants a chat about something.

He’d quickly messaged H asking him if he could do anything and H had replied saying that Gaffer trumped his plans and there was nothing he could do.

And then everything had gone wrong. He’d smashed the nice bottle of wine he’d picked up, forgetting it was on the bench when he’d dumped the shopping right on top of it. He’d burnt the side of his hand whilst trying to sort the chicken out. He’d spilt sauce down his chinos, cursing himself for not waiting to get changed. And now he’d burnt the fucking vegetables after attempting to adjust the cooking times to allow for Eric being late home.

He looked up at the clock and shook his head. Eric had text to say that he was leaving around twenty minutes ago meaning he’d be arriving home any moment. Leaving the mess in the kitchen Dele traipsed upstairs. He walked in to their bedroom pulling his t-shirt and trousers off and leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor. He reached over and grabbed his trackies from his side of the bed and pulled them on.

“Del? You here?” Eric’s voice filtered up from downstairs.

“Yeah up here!”

“Why does the kitchen look like a crime scene?”

Dele grimaced. He slowly walked down the stairs and walked into the kitchen, greeted with the sight of Eric stood with his hands on his hips. Dele walked forwards and slotted his arms around Eric’s waist.

“I was trying to cook you dinner,” he said kissing Eric’s shoulder. “I wanted to do something nice, a little date night.” Eric grabbed his hands, and span round so they were face to face.

“Didn’t go to plan I take it?” he asked his blue eyes dancing with laughter. Dele shook his head, his brows knitted together.

“Fucked it up like I usually do.” Eric smiled and shook his head, kissing Dele lightly on the forehead.

“What was the occasion anyway?” Eric asked and Dele shrugged his shoulders, feigning nonachalance. Eric poked him in his stomach and Dele slapped his hand away playfully.

“Oh no reason really. Just well you know you got clearance from the Dr for strenuous activity and I thought that…”

Eric’s hand gripped at his sides as he spoke and Dele almost swore at the immediate effect it had on him. He pulled Eric close to him, their noses brushing. “I wanted to make it special, to build up to it. Y’know?” he asked, ghosting a kiss over Eric’s lips.

Eric swallowed and raised his hands to dip Dele’s head backwards. “Build up to it? As if it isn’t what I’ve been thinking about from the moment I left the Dr’s office?” his breath was warm against Dele’s neck and the soft, wet feel of Eric’s tongue on the underside of his jaw almost made his knees fold beneath him. He could feel just how much Eric was thinking about it straining against his trackies and Dele reached around to place his hands under Eric’s clothes, fingertips just brushing against the skin hidden by his waistband. Eric groaned into his ear as he slipped his hands lower. Dele sucked in a breath as Eric nipped at his neck whilst trailing one hand down his torso, stopping when he reached the V of Dele’s hips.

“Want to show me what you had planned for the end of the night?” he whispered, nibbling on Dele’s left earlobe. Dele pulled away and laced their fingers together. Lust clouded Eric’s eyes and Dele almost dropped to his knees right then and there. But he didn’t, instead he lead Eric upstairs, whispering promises of the night being all about him as he pulled him into the bedroom, everything else forgotten.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dele getting a tattoo on its meaningful arm about Eric without telling him and Eric being oblivious and asking what it means

The cellophane stretched against Dele’s bicep and he could feel it rubbing against his under arm as he moved. The tell tale signs of an irritating, ever present itch was starting to burn and he had to fight not to raise his hand and rake his fingers across his skin. Pulling his top off he walked towards the mirror and lifted his arm out to the side. Carefully he found the end of the plastic and started to unravel it. Once he’d finished he discarded the wrap and leaned forwards, angling his arm so he could get a better look.

The tattoo hadn’t quite settled down yet, the raised red of his skin still visible under the black ink. He tenderly ran a finger over it and smiled. It was small compared to some of his others but it fitted in nicely along side the other tattoos on this arm, the ones that had the most meaning behind them.

It had been a last minute decision. He’d literally only been off the plane for a few hours when he’d called up his usual artist and asked if he could fit him in that day. As always he’d come through and Dele had found himself sat in his studio an hour later, explaining what he wanted.

“This what you’re looking for” the guy had asked, presenting Dele with his sketch. Dele had nodded, it was perfect. “Portuguese eh? Didn’t know you could speak another language,” he’d commented and Dele’s cheeks had burned. “Only a few words,” he’d replied, hoping that would be the end of the questions.

“Yo Delboy,” Eric’s voice floated up from downstairs. Dele fell on to the bed, pulling a pillow up behind his head. “Up here,” he shouted back, picking up his phone trying to fight a smile from spreading across his face.

Eric appeared in the doorway and Dele’s stomach tightened. His tall frame filled the doorway and his tanned skin almost glowed against the white top he was wearing, the v of the neck hinting at the broad chest beneath. His hair was longer than it had been for a while and a few weeks in the sun had bleached it to a light blond. It didn’t matter that Dele had just spent three weeks with him, that they’d only been apart for eight hours, the sight of Eric stood at the threshold to his bedroom made his heart beat faster.

They looked at each other for a few seconds, the memories of the last couple of months stretching between them. Dele had thought the Summer would be a magical one, the fact he was part of the World Cup squad had guaranteed that regardless of what else happened. And it had been magical. A penalty shoot out win, a semi final, coming back to the nation actually being behind them. It was all they could ask for as footballers apart from winning the thing.

“Hey you,” Eric said, falling down on to the bed next to Dele. The softness in his voice, the furtive way Eric shifted on to his stomach and inched closed to his side made Dele’s stomach swoop again. “Hey,” he breathed, lifting his arms behind his head attempting to act cool.

The last three weeks hung between them and Dele tried to steady his breathing.

The image of Eric’s naked body, covered only by a thin white sheet, entered his head. The rush of the World Cup had created a bubble around them and they’d flown to Portugal wrapped in their own little world. The moment they had entered their hotel room they had fallen on top of one another in a release of tension that had been building not just for months but years.

They’d had their moments before. Kisses stolen in the dressing room, messy handjobs in the dark the night before an away game. But Portugal was different. It was tender and measured and open. It was an admission between them that yes, this is who we are and this is what we have wanted for so long. And now they were back and Dele began to wonder how they’d navigate being in the real world.

“New tattoo? Del we’ve only been back for like nine hours!” Eric laughed, placing his hand on Dele’s arm. Dele laughed nervously in response and manoeuvred his arm so Eric could see it better. He held his breath , waiting for Eric too look at it properly. “A sun? What’s the significance? Why is it on your right arm?” he asked and Dele rolled his eyes. Eric wasn’t a tattoo person, he didn’t have a single one and every time Dele got a new one Eric normally just asked him why he needed to do it. The only thing Eric did understand was that Dele’s right arm was reserved for tattoos with proper meaning.

“Look at it again Diet,” he said quietly. Eric shuffled forward on his stomach so that his breath tickled Dele’s arm. He lifted his hand and the feel of his fingertips brushing against Dele’s skin made Dele bite his lip.

“Are those words? That make up the middle of it?” Eric asked, glancing up at him. Dele nodded and Eric tilted his head to the side. Dele held his breath. He wanted to shout at Eric for being so slow to realise. But he didn’t, he waited as Eric’s fingers continued to flutter against his skin, as the burning sensation in his stomach built and built.

“Wait,” Eric whispered, his head snapping up and his stare meeting Dele’s. “It’s Portuguese,” he said. “The boy finally catches on ladies and gentlemen,” Dele said quietly, a smile tugging at his lips. Eric turned his head back to face Dele’s arm and he traced the ring of the sun with his index finger. Dele sucked in a breath.

“Amor sempre,” Eric said, the softness of the Portuguese language on his tongue bringing back memories that made Dele feel hot.

“Del,” Eric said, his eyes searching Dele’s. Dele couldn’t stand it any longer he leaned down and kissed him. It was a long tender kiss that he hoped portrayed every thing he’d never be able to articulate. “Del, that’s there forever,” Eric murmured against his lips.

“I’m aware of that Diet,” Dele said smiling into another kiss. Eric pulled back, biting his lip as he looked at his arm again. A grin spread across his face as he leaned in and pressed his lips to the tattoo.

“Amor sempre,” he repeated. Dele reached down with his left arm and pulled on the back of Eric’s neck making him shift so they were pressed against each other.

“Amor sempre. Love always,” Dele whispered as Eric’s hands danced over his skin.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> angst; dele and eric are doing their own thing for the summer and they struggle with the distance

His thumb hovered above his phone screen and he hesitated. 

dele Ibiza Sunsets ☀️

Eric’s stomach clenched as he looked at the photo. Dele’s back was to the camera. He was leaning on the edge of an infinity pool, three other people around him. His face was turned to the side, the setting sun creating shadows across his features. He had a wide smile on his face and his arm was raised, his hand resting on the shoulder of the person next to him. It shouldn’t have bothered Eric. He knew that. The sight of Dele enjoying himself should have made Eric feel happy. Instead it made his chest feel tight. 

He dropped his phone and rubbed a hand across his face. The melody of his sisters favourite Portuguese song drifted through the open patio doors and Eric smiled as she appeared, dancing around, holding two glasses in her hand. 

“Para voce, irmao,” she said, holding one of them out for him to take. He inclined his head as he grabbed the drink and she dropped down next to him. Eric took a long drink, the twang of alcohol burning the back of his throat as he swallowed. He placed the glass down and dragged his phone towards him. The photo reappeared as the screen unlocked and he cradled the phone in his palm. 

Normally he’d just like the photo and carry on scrolling. Dele posted so many that it was an automatic reaction to double tap the screen. This one though, this one made him pause. He couldn’t figure out why it was bothering him so much. He didn’t want to be in Ibiza, that just wasn’t his scene. He knew the three other people in the picture, knew how close Dele was with all of them. He knew that they’d all look after him, stop him from drawing the wrong kind of attention. 

“Looks like Del’s having fun,” Steffi commented, leaning over his shoulder. Eric angled his phone away from her and she raised her eyebrows at him. Eric shrugged his shoulders. “He should be, he wouldn’t stop going on about all the stuff he had planned,” he said trying to keep his voice even. The pang he felt in his chest as he spoke the words made his cheeks feel hot and he realised what it was that he was feeling. 

Jealousy. Not because he wanted to be in Ibiza, going to parties and exclusive clubs. No, he was jealous because he wanted to be the one spending the Summer with Dele. Because he wished it was him that Dele would always think of when he looked back at all the photos and videos. The realisation made his head spin. The silent acknowledgment that Dele had that much of an affect on him causing his heart to race. 

“You ok little brother?” Steffi asked, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. Eric nudged her back and nodded his head. He looked back down at his phone, his eyes focusing on Dele, the way the golden glow of the sun bounced off his skin. He couldn’t unpack the way it made him feel, not now. So he double tapped the photo, placing his thumb directly over Dele. The little red heart flashed up on the screen and Eric locked his phone, throwing it down next to him, vowing to try and not think about Dele for the rest of the evening. 

***

ericdier15 _liked your photo_  

The notification dropped down at the top of his screen and Dele pressed it, Instagram opening up immediately. His eyes found Eric’s name and his heart burned in his chest. He’d posted the photo an hour ago. He’d tried to ignore the reason behind why he’d kept picking up his phone to look at the notifications, telling himself that he just wanted the photo to get enough likes to appear on the explore page. But that wasn’t it. In reality it had bothered him more than it should that it had taken Eric that long to like the photo. 

“Del, what drink d’ya want?” his brother Harry shouted from the poolside bar. Dele dragged his eyes away from his phone and lifted the Budweiser bottle he’d just finished up to indicate he’d like another. Harry gave him a thumbs up and turned around to finish his order. Dele span round on the stool he was perched on, water sloshing over his thighs. He propped his elbows on the marble bar in front of him, gripping his phone in both hands. 

He gazed out towards the sea. The sun had completely set now and the pool area was illuminated by twinkling fairy lights and huge lanterns. He loved Ibiza. It was a place he felt at home, like he could fully relax. The music, the people, the atmosphere it all suited him. The sudden thought that he wished Eric was with him made Dele sit up straight. He shook his head, telling himself that Eric was on his mind because he’d finally liked his post. 

He looked down at his phone, closed Instagram and opened up WhatsApp. Eric’s name was third on the list. He opened up the chat and smiled as he read over their last few messages. It had been two days since they’d last talked properly but Dele had sent the beer emoji to Eric the night before and Eric had replied with a wine glass. It was a regular thing for them to puncture their conversations with random emojis. It felt to Dele like their way of saying they were thinking about each other, even if they didn’t have time to actually talk. 

His mates had already ribbed him for spending so much time talking to Eric on this holiday and as he scrolled further back he realised that there hadn’t been a day so far that they hadn’t messaged each other at least once or twice. Sometimes it was just the emoji thing, sometimes it was a quick hello. Other times it was a conversation that spanned hours, ending in the early hours of the morning when they both admitted they needed to sleep. 

“Are you talking to Dier again, why don’t you just see if he wants to fly over here?” Harry’s voice cut across his thoughts as he handed him a bottle of Budweiser. Dele shrugged his shoulders and bought the bottle to his lips. He pondered the idea of Eric joining them. He’d never do it, Ibiza really wasn’t his thing but Dele loved the thought of showing him all his favourite places. Yes, he really did wish that was Eric was with him. The implications of that thought and the fact it made his stomach clench caused Dele to take another long sip from his beer. He pressed his thumb to the screen making the keypad pop up. 

_You: Hello there Diet_

There was a few seconds pause before ‘last active’ changed to ‘typing’ and Dele couldn’t fight the fact that the anticipation of Eric’s reply made his heart race. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'stop making your own rules'

“Del! Del for fucksake this isn’t funny anymore!” Eric moaned as Dele fell about laughing for what felt like the thousandth time that evening. Eric shook his head and placed the bowling ball back down on the racking.

“Crying are we Diet? Don’t like losing bets?” Dele teased in a sing song voice. He stood up and pointed towards the screen hanging above them. Dele had beaten him by five points. Five fucking points. Eric crossed his arms, slumping back on the hard plastic chair. Dele’s face was gleeful as he danced around him, holding his fingers in an L sign against his forehead. He came to a stop behind the chair and Eric jumped slightly as Dele leaned in, his breath caressing his ear.

“Do you know what this means Eric Dier? You belong to me. For the rest of the night.”

Eric’s cheeks burned and he snapped around in his chair. “No. The deal was whoever lost paid for the cinema, dinner and did the others washing for a week.” Dele stood back up and shook his head, a naughty glint in his eyes that made Eric feel nervous.

“As the winner I have decided to change the parameters of the punishment.” he said a wicked grin painted across his face. “Stop making your own rules Del, you can’t just go changing things,” Eric protested. He knew that face, that grin. Dele was in a cheeky mood and that didn’t bode well.

Eric glanced down at his watch, they were the last people in the bowling alley and he figured the staff would be around soon to kick them out. This little charade Dele was acting out needed to end soon.

“Right. Fine, whatever you want.”

“My wish is your command?”

“Yes. I will do whatever you want me too. For one night only.”

Dele leaned forwards, returning his hands to the back of the chair. “Whatever I want?’” Dele whispered. Their faces were close and Eric’s stomach swooped as Dele’s eyes momentarily glanced at his lips. He swallowed hard and nodded.

“Yes Del, anything.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I had a dream about you'

Eric sat on the end of the bed scrolling through twitter. There were thousands of tweets. Most of them containing videos of people celebrating, throwing beer everywhere and hugging each other. It had been two days since he’d scored that penalty. He clicked on another link and watched another video of another pub full of fans going absolutely crazy. He laughed at the sight of a guy climbing on to a table, singing Its Coming Home as loud as he could.

A knock on the hotel door dragged his attention from the video and he threw his phone down on the bed. He got up and walked over to the door, pulling it open. The sight of Dele stood there with his arm around his girlfriend Ruby made his stomach lurch and he etched a smile on his face, hoping it looked genuine.

“Hey, we just wanted to see if you were coming down to the lounge? Everyone else is down there.” Dele said. His voice was casual but it didn’t pass Eric’s notice that he was avoiding eye contact. Eric shrugged his shoulders, trying to think of some excuse that would get him out of going down.

“Come on. I can’t cope with Del being miserable if you don’t,” Ruby said, a plead in her tone. Eric glanced down at her and she stuck her bottom lip out. He faked a laugh but shook his head.

“Sorry Rubes, Mum’s meant to be calling soon, I might come down in a bit though.”

“You are no fun Eric Dier,” she teased.

He knew he was being irrational but he felt irritated. He glanced back at Dele and their eyes met for a second before they both looked away. Eric stiffened as he watched Dele lean in and press a kiss to the top of Ruby’s head. He silently admonished himself for being bothered by such a normal interaction between a boyfriend and his girlfriend.

“You two should go down though, go see everyone else,” he said making to go back into his room. Dele placed his hand against the wood, stopping Eric from shutting the door.

“You go ahead Ruby, I just want to show Diet something that I found on YouTube.”

Ruby rolled her eyes and tip-toed to kiss Dele lightly on the side of his mouth. Eric stared at the floor, hoping the heat he felt in his cheeks wasn’t visible.

Once she’d walked off down the hallway Dele had simply brushed past Eric and walked straight into his room. Eric closed the door and ran hand over his head before turning round. He was about to ask Dele what he wanted but the sight of him perched on the end of his bed made him stop.

This should have felt like a normal occurrence. Normally he’d fall down in the bed next to Dele. They’d show each other stupid memes, watch funny videos or talk about whatever football match they’d just been part of. It should have felt like the most natural thing in the world that his best friend was in his hotel room. But it didn’t and it made Eric’s heart ache.

Eric stayed where he was. Dele shifted on the bed, his hands clasped in his lap. The silence stretched between them and Eric crossed an arm over his chest.

“Del, you should probably just go downstairs. Ruby will wan-“

“I had a dream about you.”

Dele was staring at his knees and his voice was so quiet Eric thought he might have imagined the words. He lifted his head up and Eric burned under his stare. The air had stilled and Eric felt like he couldn’t breathe. His heart hammered in his chest as Dele slowly stood up and walked towards him. “A dream?” he said, his voice cracking on the second word. Dele nodded, coming to a stop merely a feet away.

This was the closest they had been since the celebrations after the Colombia game. Eric clenched his fists as he remembered the feel of Dele’s hands on his skin amongst the melee. He remembered them leaning in, their foreheads pressed together as their chests heaved up and down. He remembered his pulse roaring in his ears as he’d tilted his head, the thought of pressing his lips to Dele’s filling his mind until it was all he could think about. And he also remembered the pit that opened in his stomach when Dele had pulled away, as they both heard Ruby shouting his name.

“It was about the Colombia game. Or the more the celebrations afterwards.” Eric’s blood froze at Dele’s words and he leaned back against the wall in an effort to stop his knees from buckling under him. Dele took another step forward so that he was almost touching his shoulder and Eric had to remind himself how to breath properly.

“Eric,” the sound of his name on Dele’s lips made Eric’s breath hitch and he turned on his side, still leaning against the wall.

“I-in this dream, I. I mean we,” with every word Dele inched closer. Eric felt like he was drowning, like time had slowed down as Dele moved towards him. He didn’t want to move, to do anything that might scare Dele away.

“I don’t know how to say it, how to tell you that I-“ Dele had closed the gap so that there was mere inches between them. Eric’s whole body felt like it was on fire and it was taking every ounce of control he had to stay still. He watched as Dele lifted his hand and placed his gingerly against Eric’s cheek.

“Tell me what you want Del,” Eric whispered, breaking his silence. He didn’t even have time to draw a short breath before Dele’s lips crashed on to his. A small jolt of surprised passed through him before he responded, pushing against Dele. The kiss was forceful, urgent, as though they needed to make up for lost time. Every nerve in Eric’s body was singing and he let out a moan as Dele pulled at his clothes, his fingers raking down his lower back.

Eric tugged at the hem of Dele’s top and they broke apart so that he could lift it over his head. He lowered his head peppering kisses across Dele’s collar bone, smiling on to his skin as a strangled moan passed the younger guys lips. Eric paved a path of kisses up Dele’s neck, sucking on the sensitive spot just below his ear. Their lips met again and Dele bit down on Eric’s bottom lip at the same time as placing his hand on Eric’s groin. Eric sucked in a breath as Dele dragged his hand across his crotch with just enough pressure that his vision went temporarily white.

“Do you want me?,” Dele asked, repeating the motion. Eric swore under his breath and nodded his head.

“Yes. You fucking know I do,” he replied. Dele smiled and grabbed Eric’s handed, pressing it to his own crotch. Eric swore again as he felt how hard Dele was. “Can you feel how much I want you too?” Dele said, leaning into Eric’s grip.

They stared at each, daring one another to take the next step. Dele’s fingers were just slipping under the waistline of Eric’s joggers when the sound of a phone ringing made them both jump. Eric looked towards the bed and shook his head, motioning that it wasn’t his. Dele sighed and pulled his phone of out his jean pocket.

Ruby’s names filled the screen and Eric felt the heat rush out of him. Dele looked from Eric and back to the phone as though waiting to be told what to do. Eric ran a hand over his face as Dele answered.

“Yeah, ok. I’ll come down.”

He hung up and looked back at Eric. He bit his lip and moved forwards. Eric shook his head, a string of reasons why it was a bad idea forming on his tongue.

“I’ll come back later. That is if you want me too?”

“Del, what about?” he gestured towards the phone, hoping Dele would catch his meaning.

“I’ll sort it. I meant it Eric. I want you.”

Eric’s heart skipped a beat and he felt himself harden again as he nodded. Dele leaned in and kissed him.

“I’ll come back. This isn’t over I promise,” Dele said as he stepped out of the hotel room, leaving Eric rooted to the spot thinking about what that promise might mean.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re breaking my heart babe,”

Dele’s vision was blurred, the tears he’d been holding back during the journey home burned his eyes and he wiped his face as they started to fall. He hated crying, hated it. It made him feel weak, reminding him of being a child and feeling helpless. He threw his phone and keys down on the kitchen counter and pressed his palms onto the cool granite. His head was spinning, he had no idea how he’d managed to drive home.

It had been a good day by all accounts. Training had gone well and there was a buzz around the place as they all counted down to the start of the season. Ben and Trippz had been drawing up plans for a new Uno tournament and he’d managed to nutmeg Coco twice. The only thing that had been slightly odd was that Eric had been missing for most of the day. He’d asked H if he’d seen him and H had replied that he thought he was with the gaffer.

And then it had all gone to shit.

‘Eric Dier in shock move back to Portugal?’

The bright yellow Skysports banner had rolled across the bottom of the screen whilst Dele had been sat in the lounge, waiting for Eric to appear. Normally he’d ignore the transfer centre segment but this time he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen. Eric had walked through the door just as his face had flashed up on the screen and he’d stopped dead. Dele had watched him, watched as Eric’s cheeks had reddened and his heart had plummeted.

“This true?”

“Might be.”

Eric’s answer had seared right through his gut and he’d shot up from his seat. He didn’t know what he meant to do but his whole body was shaking. He walked over to Eric, his chest heaving.

“You’re leaving?”

“Poch wants to play me at centre back. I’m a midfielder Del, it’s changing my whole career.”

“But it’s Spurs Diet. It’s the team. It’s - it’s us.”

The last two words had come out all strangled and quiet. Dele had stared at Eric, waiting for a response. Eric’s had lifted his hand bringing it to rest of Dele’s neck. His blue eyes were a storm of anguish and Dele shook his head, fighting back tears. Dele had wanted to shout, wanted to scream in Eric’s face. He had wanted to tell him that it wasn’t fair. That they’d only just figured it all out. That one summer was not enough. That he couldn’t bear the thought of Eric leaving because he needed him, wanted him, loved him.

Instead he’d bought his hand up to cover Eric’s, staring at him, searching his face for any hint that this wasn’t the truth.

“Del, please. You have to understand.”

“You’d make a great centre back, bossing the back line about,” Dele had whispered, attempting to smile.

Eric had pulled him close, resting his forehead against Dele’s. And Dele knew. He knew that Eric’s decision had been made. That nothing he could say would change it.

“I love you Dele.”

Eric’s words had sucked the breath out of him and he’d closed his eyes. This couldn’t be happening.

“You’re breaking my heart babe,” he’d said, not able to hide the wobble in his voice. Eric had nodded, drawing Dele into a hug. “I know. I’m so sorry,” the words caressed his neck and were replaced by a soft kiss.

“I wish we’d had more time. I wish we could rewind the clock and take all of those chances we lost,” Eric’s voice was tight and Dele felt the hot wetness of tears on his skin. He pulled back abruptly, anger swelling in his stomach. He stepped backwards and Eric’s eyes widened as he reached out towards him.

“You’re the one that’s leaving. You’re the one that’s giving up. I’m here Eric. Everything you could have is stood right in front of you. But you can’t do it. You’re running away.” He knew he was shouting, knew that he was being unfair but in that moment he didn’t care. All he could feel was his heart shattering in his chest, his body trembling as a dead weight settled in his stomach.

He hadn’t waited for Eric to respond. He’d left him standing there, tears in his eyes. Dele had ignored everyone looking at him as he’d stalked down the hallway and out into the car park. He had heard H shouting after him but he’d zoned it out. He’d got in his car, punching the steering wheel before turning on the ignition. As he’d driven off he’d glanced in his rear view mirror and had spotted Eric staring after him, with his hands behind his head.

The image of Eric stood there filled Dele’s mind as he stood in his kitchen, his heart thumping in his chest. His phone lit up with another notification of a missed call. Dele picked up the phone and cradled it in his hand. Eric’s name flashed up again and his pulse roared in his ears. He pressed accept and lifted the phone to his ear, not saying a word.

“Del, please. Just say something,” Eric’s voice was pleading and Dele could tell he’d been crying.

“Stay.”

“What?”

“Don’t leave. Eric, please.”

The silence on the other end of the phone carved Dele’s chest in two and he sunk down to the floor, a sob escaping his throat as he realised he was never going to get the answer he so desperately wanted.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> touch starved eric after dele and him haven’t seen each other in a while

Dele stifled a giggle as he felt Eric’s lips on his shoulder. Strong arms snaked their way around his waist and he tilted his head to the side as Eric laced slow, tender kisses along his neck. He lifted his arm up to rub the back of Eric’s head, the familiar roughness of his short hair making him smile. 

“Hey you,” he said and he felt Eric’s smile on his skin. He leaned forward, Eric moving with him and picked up the glass of juice he’d just poured himself. He wriggled from side to side, widening the circle of Eric’s arms and span round. He stole a quick kiss before taking a sip of his drink and Eric idly traced shapes on his chest. 

Dele had arrived at Eric’s in the early hours of the morning. He hadn’t even bothered going home. Just got off the plane and told his driver to take him to Eric’s. He’d quietly let himself in and made his way upstairs. The sight of Eric sleeping on his stomach, the thin white sheet Dele always moaned did not class as a duvet just about covering his bottom made his heart clench. It had been three weeks since they’d last seen each other. Dele had turned on the torch on his phone and walked into the room. The light bounced of the walls and illuminated Eric’s back and Dele had imagined pressing his lips between his shoulder blades, whispering how much he’d missed him. But he hadn’t wanted to wake him. Instead he’d just crawled into bed and fallen asleep with Eric’s solid, reassuring presence beside him.

“What are your plans for today?” he asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter. Eric shrugged and tugged at the top of Dele’s shorts. Dele laughed, shaking his head. “Again? Twice in one morning not enough for you?” he teased, grabbing Eric’s hand and lacing their fingers together. 

“I’ve missed you,” Eric uttered, rubbing his thumb over Dele’s palm. It always amused him, how everyone would probably think that is what him who was the needy one in their relationship. Eric came across as quite cool and collected most of the time but when it came to Dele he was completely soft. And horny apparently. Dele took another sip of his juice and fluttered his fingers against the back of Eric’s hand. 

“I missed you too,” he said, lifting their hands up and placing his lips to the tips of Eric’s fingers. Eric bit his lip and took the glass out of his other hand, placing it down on the counter behind them. He cupped his hand behind Dele’s neck and pulled him into a kiss, lips parted and tongue hot in Dele’s mouth. Dele giggled as Eric’s hand once again fiddled with the top of his shorts. 

“How about,” he began, running his hands along Eric’s sides, slipping his arms around him and sliding his hands underneath his boxers. Eric groaned and Dele smirked. “How about we just stay in today? Chill out in the cinema room?” He kissed Eric on the side of his mouth and sighed slightly as Eric ran his hands down his back. 

The truth was Dele felt the same as Eric. He could think of nothing better than spending the day reacquainting himself with Eric’s body, reminding himself of all the ways he could draw out those little moans he loved so much. He loved the fact that Eric couldn’t keep his hands off him, that he just wanted to be as close to him as he possibly could. An image from earlier that morning entered his head. The look of desperation in Eric’s eyes as he ran his hands over his body, the touch starved need to reclaim Dele as his own written all over his face. 

Eric nodded and cupped Dele’s face in both of his hands. “Netflix and chill?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Dele laughed loudly and nodded his head. “Yes you fucking horny teenager, Netflix and chill indeed.” 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Putting it right' - sequel to 'You're breaking my heart babe

The sun was beating down on the training field and the thwack of several footballs being booted around filled the air. Over on one side of the pitch Danny and Trippz were arguing about something, their arms gesticulating widely towards a small goal. H and Hugo were doing shooting practice on the far side and every so often a shout of ‘good save’ or ‘what a shot’ punctured the silence.

Dele had just finished a one on one training session. Part of his conditioning for the light thigh strain he’d picked up during a preseason friendly. He was sat down at the edge of the small training pitch, stretching his hamstrings. His body felt good, like it was finally prepared for the start of the new season. The physio was pleased with him and today’s session had cleared him to rejoin first team training.

Yeah, his body felt good but everything else? That needed some work. It had been three weeks. Three weeks since he’d got in his car and driven off, his heart burning in his chest. Three weeks since his world had caved in. Three weeks since he’d last seen the one person he’d not gone a day without speaking to for nearly four years.

The others were worried about him. He could see it in their furtive glances, the way conversations sometimes hushed when he walked into a room. All of them had tried to talk to him about it at some point, trying to console him or tell him it would all be alright. H had even appeared at his house one night after training. Dele had opened the door and H had walked inside before he could shut it again.

“We need our guy back Del, the dressing room isn’t the same without your antics.”

Dele had just nodded, staring off into the distance. He knew Harry was right. Dele was normally one of the ones who lightened the mood, with his nutmegs and his silly challenges in the changing rooms. And he had tried. He’d told himself that everything would be fine if he just carried on as if nothing had happened.

But he couldn’t do it. Not when he automatically searched for a pair of blues eyes every time something funny happened, when his lips started to curve around his name every time he wanted someone to back his corner. Everything always came back to him. So Dele had stopped. He turned up for training, did his bit and went home.

The memories chased him there as well. He’d wake up in the middle of the night, the ghost of a touch lingering between his shoulder blades. He’d pull another oversized top out of his wardrobe, find another stupid hat.

He was everywhere. They were everywhere. The little things that told the story of the risk they’d taken haunted Dele. The toothbrush, the underwear in the drawer, the Portugeuse songs on his playlist. All of it made him want to shut himself away.

Dele shook his head and leaned over to grab his water bottle, banishing the thoughts from his mind. His heart might be broken but he still had a job to do and he couldn’t let anything jeopardise that. If that meant disconnecting from everything and just focusing on the football then so be it. He pushed himself up from the grass and made his way over to the changing room.

The chill of the air con made him shiver as he walked inside, goosebumps raising along his arms. He turned a corner, the main area of the changing room opening up before him and the bottom fell out of his world.

Eric was stood with his back to the room, facing his locker. He was wearing his own clothes, a faded pair of jeans and white t-shirt that pulled over the muscles on his shoulders. Dele’s heart contracted as he noticed the sun kissed hue to his skin. He shook his head, backing away. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t watch as Eric collected his stuff. A sudden clatter crashed around the room and Dele cursed himself as looked down at the shoe rack he’d bumped into.

Eric stiffened and started to turn round. Dele’s heart hammered in his chest. Their eyes locked and Dele felt as though the air had been sucked out of him. Eric looked good. His hair was longer, the tan accentuating how blond he was. He’d obviously been training hard, his t-shirt tight enough to draw attention to just how toned he was. Dele wondered for a brief second what Eric must be thinking of him but the thought was gone the instant Eric took a step forward.

“Del,” the sound of his name almost made Dele come undone and he looked away, tears pricking the back of his eyes.

“You couldn’t just get your stuff sent over to you?” he asked his voice thick, an angry edge to his tone. Eric sighed, taking another step forward.

Dele stepped back, keeping the distance between them. He shook his head, holding his hands up. “No you know what I’m not doing this.” He turned around and started to walk away, fighting every instinct he had to look over his shoulder.

“I’m not here to collect my stuff.”

Eric’s voice was small and uneven. Dele stopped but didn’t turn round. He waited, not daring to acknowledge the hope roaring in his veins.

“It’s off. The deal.”

Dele clenched his hands into fists and turned round. His eyes locked with Eric’s, the sharp retort about Sporting not wanting him dying on his tongue. Eric took another step forward and this time Dele stayed still. His body burned with the need to reach out and touch Eric, to make sure he was real and that this wasn’t another one of his daydreams.

“I got out there and it just felt wrong. I kept thinking about what I’d given up here. The team, the gaffer, the Premier League,” Eric filled the void between them with words, rubbing his neck and looking down at the floor.

“And you,” he snapped his head up as he spoke, his blue eyes sparkling as he closed the gap between them. Eric tentatively lifted his hands so we’re cupping Dele’s face and Dele forgot what it was to breath.

“I’m so sorry Del, I’m sorry I left you.”

The desperation in his voice made Dele’s stomach lurch. He lifted his hands up, grabbing Eric’s neck and pulled him forwards.

Their lips met and it was rough and painful and it was like coming home. It was the stolen kiss in the dressing room after the Nations League final. It was the night after in their hotel room as they explored each other’s bodies. It was Eric dropping to his knees and Dele thinking he’d never feel this good again. It was the morning that Dele had rolled over and whispered to Eric that he wanted him to fuck him. And it was the day Eric had said he was leaving and Dele had felt everything they could have had slip through his fingers. It was all of those moments and it was also just one.

Dele pulled back and gripped the back of Eric’s neck. Eric didn’t flinch at the pressure, he just stared at Dele, waiting.

“You’re back?”

“Yes.”

“You fucking broke my heart,”

“I know. I know I did.”

“You can’t do that again.”

“I won’t.”

“You promise?”

Eric nodded and Dele shook his head. “How can I believe you?” He needed to hear him say it. Needed to believe that Eric wasn’t going to just turn around and walk back out of his life. Eric bit his lip and wrapped his arms around Dele’s waist. He pulled him in close and Dele shivered as his breath caressed his ear.

“Because I love you Dele and I’m never going to walk away from you ever again.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiss prompt - one person scrunches up their face and the other kisses their forehead, nose and lips

“Say you are sorry.”

“Nope. Not happening. Nu-huh.”

“Say it or I am going to make you say it.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Dele raises his eyebrows in a challenge as Eric stands over him, hands on his hips. Eric attempts to give him a stern look but the goofy grin plastered on his face sort of ruins the effect. Dele chances a quick look to the side and another ripple of laughter bubbles in his chest as he spots Eric’s phone, his instagram profile open, a little ombre ring around his profile picture. 

It wasn’t his fault that Eric had fallen asleep. Wasn’t his fault that Eric had let set up facial recognition. Wasn’t his fault that it was just really too tempting to film him whilst he was sleeping. 

“I don’t know why you are so bothered, you’re only asleep. Its not like you’re naked or anything!” 

Eric rolls his eyes and flops down on the sofa next to him. Dele nudges him with his shoulder and starts prodding him in the ribs. “Del, I swear you are the most irritating human being on this planet,” he moans, trying to bat his hands away. Dele dodges his attempts and aims his fingers higher, poking Eric’s chest. 

“Ow!” he moans as Eric lands a sharp swat to the back of his head and he leans forward, sprawling himself over Eric. He reaches out and wraps his hand around Eric’s phone, lifting it to his face. 

“Worst fucking thing I ever let you talk me into that was,” Eric quips, shaking his head as Dele opens up Instagram again. A photo of Eric asleep, lay down on the couch fills the screen. His mouth is open slightly and his cheek is squashed from where he is lying on his hand. Dele smiles at the screen and presses through the next few slides. All of them are different angles of Eric sleeping. The last one is a video and Dele lets out a chuckle as soft snoring comes from the speakers. 

“You are cute when you’re asleep you know that Diet?”

He flicks back through until he reaches the fourth photo and holds his thumb down on the screen, pausing the story. He took the photo whilst sat on the other side of the sofa. Eric is lying on his back, his arm tucked under his t-shirt. The white material is crumpled up and Dele’s eyes sweep over Eric’s stomach remembering the feeling of wanting to reach out and run his hands over it. He looks so peaceful, the usually furrowed brows straightened out. 

“Yeah well now the whole world can see whether they agree with you.”

“Well not the whole world, just your 795k followers.”

“Sorry Mr big shot 6 million.”

“6.4 million actually, get it right.”

Dele laughs again and quickly sends the photo to his own DMs before chucking the phone down. Eric picks it up and cradles it in his palm. He opens up Instagram himself and starts looking through the stories. Dele can tell that he’s annoyed, or at least he’s starting to do that thing where he overthinks again. Dele huffs out a breath and raises himself on to his knees. He plucks the phone out of Eric’s hands and bats away the beginnings of a protest. 

“Stop it Eric Jeremy Edgar Dier.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop getting in your own head.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are. No-one can see who has taken the photo’s and even of people guess it does not matter.” 

Eric scrunches his face up, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. Dele had been fighting this battle with Eric for a while now. They were being careful. He was being careful. He was being careful even though a large part of his wanted to shout from the rooftops that Eric Dier belonged to him. That he had finally, finally got this mountain of a man to admit that he was in love with him. But he respected Eric and how difficult their situation was. The realisation that his little adventure on Eric’s Instagram was probably bothering him more than he realised hits Dele and he shuffles forwards, swinging his leg over so that he was straddling Eric’s lap. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, flattening his palms on Eric’s chest. Eric widens his eyes in response. 

“Dele, apologising? Has hell frozen over?”

“I am sorry for uploading the photos to Instagram. However,”

“Ah, there it is,”

“Shut up. However, what I am not sorry for is being in love with you. For finding you attractive. For wanting to take millions and millions of photos of you and save every single one.” 

He cups his face in his hands and tilts is upwards. “I love you and one day I will tell everyone who will listen just how much.” Eric scrunches his face again making Dele’s stomach swoop and he leans forward placing a kiss on his forehead, his nose and finally his lips. A strong hand reaches up and cups the back of his neck, squeezing lightly. Dele sighs and presses his forehead to Eric’s. He stares into those sea blue eyes and he swears it feels as though his heart might burst when Eric whispers back. 

“One day Del, I’ll do the same too.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We can never be together” kiss.

“Diet. Diet. Eric. For fuck sakes slow down.” 

Dele was out of breath, he’d been following Eric for what felt like an age and he still hadn’t managed to get him to stop, to turn round, to tell him why he looked like he was about to break something. 

They turned a corner and Eric pushed open the door to one of the little physio rooms and Dele was surprised it stayed on its hinges. He followed him in and stopped at the sight of Eric with his arms out, leaning against the wall, his head bowed. 

And his throat closed up.

“Eric you are scaring me,” he said quietly, reaching out a hand. Eric flinched at his touch and Dele stepped backwards, his heart pounding. Something was wrong and his mind raced as he tried to think of anything and everything that had happened over the past day, week, month. 

And all he could think about was Eric. His mouth on his, wet and hot and everything he had thought it would be. His hands on his skin, tracing invisible love letters on every inch of him with his fingertips. His body pressed against his, that final barrier breached as they surrendered everything to one another. 

His heart in Eric’s palm, all his hopes and dreams tied up in his blue eyes. 

“We can’t do this.” 

His heart on the floor in front of him. A thousand tiny pieces of the future he had built in his head, shattered. 

What do you mean?” he asked, his voice shaking. He stepped forwards and pulled on Eric’s arm. His grip was tight and he pulled again until Eric faced him. Those blue eyes met his and he felt his knees threaten to fold beneath him. Those kind blue eyes, turned cold. He wanted to reach out, to cup his hand around Eric’s face and reassure him it was all OK. But the rising dread in his stomach told him that it wasn’t, that nothing might be OK ever again. 

“Eric, please just fucking talk to me.”

Eric shook his head, running his hands over his face. 

“We can’t do this Del,” his voice broke over his name and Dele’s vision swam with tears as he saw Eric’s do the same. 

“This?” he asked. He was pushing, he knew he was. But his blood was burning in his veins and the floor was melting from underneath him. He knew what was coming but he need to hear it. He needed to make Eric say the words just so he had something to hang his heart on, to give foundation to the dread that was clawing at his insides. 

“Say it Eric. Say it. You are giving up. You are giving up on us.” 

Eric was in front of him in a flash, the gap between them closed with a few strides. His hands were wrapped around his wrists, the pressure sending his fingers white. Dele didn’t move, didn’t so much as flinch. He stared, holding Eric’s gaze. 

“Don’t you see how this was never going to work? It’s started already Del, the stories. The fucking horrible things they are saying, about you. I can’t do it.”

“Don’t you fucking dare do that. Don’t you use me as a shield to hide behind.”

Anger flashed through Dele and he flicked his arms back, pulling his hands from Eric’s grip. He stumbled backwards, lifting his hands out in front of him. 

“You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to decide if this is worth it or not. We knew what we were getting into. We knew what it meant.”

With every word he could see Eric slipping away. Could feel the chasm opening up between them. The ghosts of whispered conversations entered his head. The promises and declarations, breathed in the space between them as they found their release. The words that anchored them to each other, tattooed onto their skin with tender lips. 

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t rip it all away because he was scared. 

“You’re scared Eric. So am I. I am fucking petrified most of the time. Petrified of how you make me feel. Because it’s the most real I have ever felt.” 

The tears were hot against his cheeks but he let them fall. Eric stood still, face blank. And then Dele thought he might unravel as he saw a single tear run down his cheek. 

He didn’t think, he just rushed forwards and grabbed Eric’s face, holding it between his hands. He didn’t give him any time to protest before he crashed his mouth on Eric’s and there was barely a second of hesitation before he was responding. The salt of their tears mixed with the familiar taste of Eric’s mouth and Dele licked at the seam of his lips. His heart clenched as he was granted access and he felt Eric lean into him, losing himself. 

It was a desperate kiss. Hands grappled for purchase, clothes bunched in fists, teeth stung skin. Dele wanted to pour every inch of himself into Eric, wanted to hand every single fibre of his being over and lose himself completely. He wanted Eric to know that this was everything. That he didn’t know how to exist without him. 

Eric pulled away slightly and pressed their foreheads together. His blue eyes were shining with tears and the look of utter devastation on his face made Dele feel as though the world had tilted on its axis. 

“I’m sorry Del. I’m so sorry I just can’t. I love you but we can’t be together” He leaned in, pressed a ghost of a kiss to his lips and walked away. Dele heard the door click shut behind him and his resolve cracked. His legs gave way and he fell to the floor, a loud sob cleaving his chest in two. 

He was in pieces. Tiny little shards pierced through his lungs every time he breathed. It wasn’t meant to be like this. It wasn’t meant to end this way. It wasn’t meant to finish with him on the floor, surrounded by fragments of memories that would never fit back together. His eyes burned with the cruel sting of more tears threatening to fall and he balled his hands in to fists, nails puncturing the skin of his palms. 

This wasn’t how their story was supposed to go. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealous kiss

He was bored. Bored and annoyed that he had been dragged out to this event when all he’d wanted to do was chill on the sofa and play fifa. He shifted, moving his weight from one hip to the other. The drink in his hand was warm, the ice long melted. It was some expensive whiskey he’d never heard of and it was horrible. He twirled the glass between his fingers and scanned the room. A spike of something hot shot through him as his eyes fell on Eric, deep in conversation a couple of metres away.

“Dele Alli isn’t it?”

A female voice cut across his thoughts and he tore his eyes away from Eric, noting the way the woman he was speaking to kept fluttering her hand against his arm.

“Yeah, Dele,” he answered knowing that trying to explain anything else was pointless. The girl nodded and stepped sideways so she was in his eye line. She was pretty, around his age and she was staring up at him with a look on her face that Dele had seen countless times before.

“I didn’t expect to see two premier league footballers tonight, we’ve been spoilt.”

Dele smiled tightly at her flirtatious tone and swept his gaze over her head. His heart clenched as he watched Eric throw his head back with laughter, the same woman still speaking to him. The girl followed his eye line and giggled.

“Oh, Gemma is beside herself that Eric agreed to appear at the fundraiser. Looks like she’s plucked up the courage to make her move. I’m Lucy by the way.”

Dele’s eyes snapped to meet hers at the mention of the woman, Gemma, making her move. He reminded himself to look apologetic at not asking Lucy her name and tried to focus his brain on thinking of something to ask her.

“Gemma got a thing for Eric then?” he asked and Lucy’s face fell. Dele might have felt guilty for not indulging her obvious interest in him were it not for the fact that he couldn’t focus on anything but Gemma’s hand climbing its way up Eric’s arm. Lucy looked back over her shoulder and let out a chuckle.

“Yeah you could say that. All she’s been going on about all day. Eric this, Eric that. I think she’s spoken to him like once before tonight and she’s smitten. Do you know if he’s seeing anyone? Help a wingwoman out?”

Dele’s ears roared and he lifted the tepid drink to his lips, downing it in place of having to speak. He looked at Lucy as he drank. She had a wicked grin on her face and he knew that she was expecting an answer that would result in her dragging Gemma to the toilet to squeal in delight at the fact they both actually had a chance to pull. Because he also knew that the pair of them would have done their homework and as far as the outside world was concerned both him and Eric were single.

But they weren’t.

Lucy was talking again and he nodded a few times, hoping that he wasn’t agreeing to anything he might regret. His attention though was focused on Eric. Or more on Gemma who was slowly leaning in towards him, her hand slipping over his arm and snaking its way around his back.

He felt his cheeks burn and his fingers pressed into the bevelled edges of his glass. The pressure helped pinpoint the frustration coiling in his chest and he rolled his head back a bit trying to ease the building tension. Lucy was chatting away and Dele was sure he’d just heard her mention something about a club and a guest list Gemma had sorted out.

That was definitely not happening.

He glanced up again and almost fell forward as he found Eric’s staring back at him. His blue eyes were piercing even from such a distance and Dele saw him flick his gaze between him and Lucy. Despite himself he couldn’t help but feel a slight thrill shoot through his veins as he saw Eric’s jaw tighten. Dele raised his eyebrow just slightly and cocked his head towards Gemma. Eric’s jaw muscle jumped again and his eyes slowly moved from Dele’s back to Gemma. Dele saw him uncross his arms and relax, flashing a wide smile at whatever it was that she was saying.

Two can play that game Diet.

Dele turned back to Lucy and cocked his head to the side. He put his glass down on the tall table next to him and propped his elbow against it. Lucy’s smile widened as she realised he was paying attention to her.

“You said something about a club?” he asked. Lucy nodded, her eyes sparkling. Dele felt a small pang of guilt in his stomach. It was wrong to use her as a way to get under Eric’s skin but he couldn’t just stand there and stew whilst he was busy being chatted up. Lucy leaned in and brushed a hand against his arm. Dele dared a look at Eric and he saw his smile falter slightly.

And then he saw Eric lean forward and say something in Gemma’s ear, keeping his eyes on Dele all the while. There was a challenge in his stare and Dele felt heat coil low in his stomach. Eric’s eyes flicked quickly to his right and Dele did the same, spotting the door. He kept his face neutral as his insides burned, turning his attention back to Lucy.

“Hold that thought whilst I nip to the loo,” he said, giving her an apologetic smile. She nodded, disappointment furrowing her brow as he walked away. Dele tried to keep his pace casual, attempted not to look in Eric’s direction as he neared the door. He failed miserabley on the second count and he gave Eric a pointed look as their eyes met.

The cool of the corridor hit him as he exited the room and he paced up and down a few times. A sudden thought that Eric might have been winding him up flashed across his mind and he almost laughed. He’d all but ran out of the room and Eric could be stood in there, casually chatting away knowing he’d won.

He was just about to make his way back to the door when it swung open. Eric filled the frame, the light from the room behind him creating a glow around his silhouette. Dele’s heart jumped as he pushed the door shut behind him. Eric walked forwards and Dele moved his lips to speak but faltered as Eric’s grabbed his jaw and pushed him back against the wall.

As soon as Dele hit the hard brick surface Eric’s mouth crashed on to his. Dele couldn’t help but moan as he nipped at his bottom lip and then licked the same spot. Eric pulled back, panting slightly. He leaned forward and placed small kisses on Dele’s neck and Dele’s eyes rolled back slightly as he felt the hot wetness of Eric’s tongue draw a line underneath his jaw.

“Feeling a little jealous tonight Delboy?” he breathed and Dele snapped his arms up, pushing Eric back slightly.

“I think you’ll find it’s you who’s jealous.”

“Oh really? And why is that?”

“You just eyeballed me to come out here because I was stood talking to Lucy and-“

Eric laughed, a low husky laugh. He leaned forward again and whispered in his ear, “Lucy is it? Tell me something Del, does she make you feel like this?”

Dele’s knees almost buckled underneath him as Eric kissed the sensitive spot underneath his ear at the same time as he pressed a hand to his crotch. He moved his hand in a sweeping motion and Dele was hard in seconds. He felt Eric smile on his skin and he let out a strangled ‘fuck’ as he applied more pressure.

He bought his hands up to cup Eric’s face and pulled him up into a kiss. They worked their mouths against each other and Dele lowered his grasp to grapple at Eric’s neck. His hand kept up a steady rhythm over Dele’s trousers and it felt infuriatingly distant and too close all at once.

He dropped his hand down between them and he Eric gasped into his mouth as his hand found him hard and waiting. Dele smiled and sucked on Eric’s tongue as he replicated the movements Eric was making with his own hand.

“Does Gemma make you feel like this?” he asked wickedly.

They stayed locked together for a minute, until Eric pulled back and swore. Dele licked his lips, looking at him with hooded eyes. He jumped slightly as Eric withdrew his hand from his dick, snapped his fingers around his wrists and pulled his arms up, pinning them against the wall.

They were both breathing heavily and Dele felt the acute need for Eric’s hand to finish what he’d started. Eric didn’t relax his grip. He didn’t move, he didn’t do anything. He just stared at Dele, his blue eyes misty with lust.

And there it was. Amidst the fucking painful hard on and the urge to just drop to his knees and suck Eric off in a public corridor, there was that feeling. That feeling he got whenever he woke up in a morning to see Eric sprawled next to him, naked and covered by nothing but a thin sheet. When he looked up at training and caught Eric staring at him with a smile on his face. When he collapsed in his arms after having sex and Eric kissed a map across his body. That feeling, that he was so stupidly and irrevocably in love with this mountain of a man and how lucky he was that he loved him back.

Eric must have seen his face soften because he released his arms and placed his hands on Dele’s cheeks. Dele did the same thing and Eric pressed their foreheads together.

“No-one makes me feel the way you do. You’re mine and that enough to drive me crazy.” Dele’s voice was thick with something between lust and emotion and Eric smiled widely. He leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of Dele’s mouth. Eric continued to pepper his face with soft, tender kisses, whispering one word over and over until Dele thought it no longer sounded real.

“Mine. Mine. Mine.”


End file.
